The Hidden Moments of the Malfoy Family
by Narcissa B Malfoy
Summary: What do we really know about the Malfoy family? What stories, what secrets are hiding beneath the façade they present to society? A collection of one-shots featuring the Wizarding World's most prominent family.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I disclaim, I disclaim!_

_My thanks to ABitOfBlack!_

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><p><strong>The Hidden Moments of the Malfoy Family.<strong>

_Prologue_

Being a Malfoy, many people believe, is an honour - a privilege if you will. Doors open for you, people bow down to you. It grants you power, prestige, wealth, notoriety, and the knowledge that people respect you, perhaps even fear you.

And with that prestige, of course, come many moments in the public eye – dinners, balls, and official Ministry events too numerous to detail. All moments that make you feel proud, superior, confident.

But then there are the moments that the public does not see, the moments they are not privy to – the time the family has to themselves; some beautiful, some happy, some sad, and of course, as with every family, some less than reputable, and downright embarrassing.

They are the private and hidden moments of the Malfoy family. These moments cannot be ignored, because though at times they may be boringly mundane, they are the ones that define who you are as a person.

And the Malfoys, regardless of their status, are not exempt from this. They have their strengths and their weaknesses, and they have made mistakes.

So these are their stories; their times together, and apart; their moments as a family. In short – their lives.

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><p><em>Just a small something to start off before I launch into the real chapters.<em>

_As always, reviews, thoughts and comments are most appreciated. _


	2. A Mother's Love

_Disclaimer: I still continue the dream that the Harry Potter franchise IS mine._

_Author's Note: These chapters won't be in any particular order and will vary in length – depending on inspiration and motivation :)_

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><p><strong>A Mother's Love<strong>

The timing was absolutely perfect.

Just as Narcissa was making her way down the corridor towards the stairs, a desperate, high-pitched cry rang out from her son's room, his sobs echoing off the walls and into the hallway. Without a second thought, she turned and quickly made her way back down the hall to Draco's room - hearing her son's cries, knowing that he was scared, or hungry, or needed her in some way pierced her heart every time, a heavy feeling settling in her stomach. There was no way she could let him cry.

Pausing just outside his room, she bent and placed her half empty mug of cold tea on the floor; the house elves would take care of that for her – this was more important. She pushed open the dark mahogany door, the heart-wrenching sobs getting louder as she walked across the room towards her son, her heels clicking purposefully against the stone floor.

"What's wrong, Draco?" she whispered to him, peering into the cradle and stroking his blonde hair back from his forehead softly. Upon seeing his mother, Draco's cries settled to a series of whimpers, the tears though still forming in his grey eyes and sliding down his pale cheeks. "Everything will be okay." She continued, reaching down to pick him up and holding him close to her chest. She walked around the room slowly, patting his back softly, all the while whispering to him soothingly.

"There now, are we feeling better?" she asked, taking her lock of hair he had started sucking on out of his mouth. He raised his eyes to hers and hiccupped, the sudden sound out of his own mouth startling him. "I'll take that as a yes." Narcissa said with a laugh, carrying Draco over to the white rug in the middle of the room and sitting down on it. Crossing her legs and settling Draco in her lap, she turned him to face her. She gave a long and exaggerated sigh as he looked up at her without a care in the world.

"You're fine - you just wanted some attention, didn't you?" she tickled his stomach and he laughed happily. "You're lucky you're cute." She informed him and she placed a kiss on his soft head. Delighted that he was getting the attention he had so desperately craved, Draco started to fidget, obviously no longer content to be held in one place. Narcissa set him down on the rug and lay down next to him, using her hand to prop her head up. She rubbed his stomach with her other hand, Draco gurgling happily, his arms and legs waving in the air. His grey eyes met his mother's blue ones as he continued to wriggle around, his tongue poking out momentarily and he giggled, amused by his own hilarious antics. Not to be outdone by her baby, Narcissa screwed up her face and poked her tongue out too, causing Draco's face to light up as he squealed with laughter.

Enjoying his reaction more than he may have loved her expression, she continued to pull faces at her baby boy, each one causing him more joy than the last. As she puffed her cheeks out and shook her head, her hair falling over her face, Draco clapped his hands and lifted his arms into the air, reaching for her. Narcissa moved her face to his, and he gave a huge gummy smile. He placed his tiny, pudgy hands on either side of her face and he laughed.

In that moment, with that one tiny gesture, Narcissa felt her heart swell in her chest, an incredible amount of love rushing through her . As Draco moved his hands around her face, over her cheeks and across her nose, she realised she could never love this little boy more than she did now. She had never felt a love this intense before.

Oh, she loved Lucius, and her family and friends, of course. More than _anything_.

But this, this was different. It was such a simple feeling, yet it was so complicated. It was the kind of feeling that went so deep, had so many intricate details, so many layers that one could not even fathom trying to dissect or analyse it. It was what it was – a mother's love for her child. It was the feeling that had always been there, but you don't realise exactly how powerful it is until it knocks you down.

And it knocked Narcissa Black Malfoy down faster than she could say '_Protego!_'

This boy, this tiny person who was both a piece of her, and a piece of Lucius was absolutely and completely perfect. As Draco lowered his hands from her face and attempted to roll onto his stomach, Narcissa continued to watch him. He had Lucius's hair, and Lucius's eyes. But he had her nose, the Black nose. She loved that – he was a Malfoy _and_ a Black, a combination of the two noblest Wizarding families.

In that moment, Narcissa made a promise to her son and to herself. From the top of his head to the tips of his ten little toes, for the rest of his life nothing would ever hurt him; no danger would ever befall him; nothing would mar his perfect skin. She knew no harm would ever come to this little boy. Not because she could tell the future. No, she had never been particularly skilled with Divination. But because she would not _let _anything happen to him.

There was a reason she had never given in to Bellatrix's desire that she too join the Death Eaters. She agreed with them, of course, but she'd never be able to maim, torture and kill the way they did. She hadn't been strong enough to deal with the consequences of those actions, she couldn't justify it in the same way they did. And she certainly wasn't going to pretend otherwise.

That wasn't true now.

From the moment she had held this little boy in her arms, the first time his tiny hand had curled around her finger, she changed. She knew now, if it ever came to it, she would not hesitate to do whatever was needed to protect her son.

This sense of love and protection was so fierce it would have frightened her had it not been so pure.

And the best part was knowing it was all hers, forever. This feeling would never go away; it could never be taken from her and it would never fade – it would only grow. There was nothing in this world that could stop her loving this perfect baby – her son; this tiny person who would grow into a little boy, then into a young man who would one day have a family of his own.

But that was years away. For now, Narcissa was content just to lie here with him. Not a care in the world between them.

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><p><em>Pure, unadulterated fluff – I had to write it before the idea left me completely. As always, reviews are appreciated more than coffee on a Monday morning! :)<em>


	3. Hair

_Disclaimer: I wish, I dream, but no. No dice._

_My thanks to ABitofBlack for editing, and so much more._

_Inspiration came when I was having a particularly bad hair day. I think we can all relate._

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><p><strong>Hair<strong>

A frustrated _tsk_ of the tongue and a heeled shoe stamped with an ever increasing degree of impatience were what roused me that snowy winter's morning. A quick risk assessment determining just how bitterly cold the air outside the blankets would be, and a glance to the nearby window answered the two main questions on my mind: Yes, it was morning, but yes, it was also _far_ to early to be woken in this manner, with this problem. Yet again.

Deciding it would be pointless to try and go back to sleep now, I sat up in bed, wiping the sleep from my eyes groggily and mentally begging anybody, anything for coffee in the very near future.

"Good morning." I greeted, turning my eyes to the blond figure standing before the mirror. A series of muffled words met my greeting, the ribbons and hairpins protruding from pursed lips hindering any coherent reply. Silence filled the wintery air between us as I aimed a _'pointed look'_ towards the figure before the mirror.

"Agaaaaaain?" I said, breaking the silence, emphasising my annoyance by accentuating the simple word as my specially aimed '_look'_ flew by, unnoticed. Annoyed eyes moved to mine, using the reflective glass to face my comment, rather than turning around.

"Yesh, agem." The reflection mumbled with a frown, causing several hairpins to fall to the frosty stone floor. The series of tiny clinks were joined by another irritated stamp of the foot.

"I do not understand why you won't simply use magic for this. It would save us all a _great_ deal of trouble." I voiced clearly, and perhaps somewhat haughtily. But, as with each and every other time before, my suggestion fell on selectively deaf ears.

As the figure before the mirror began another muffled reply, strands of hair fell from pale fingers and hung loosely around an equally pale face, framing an intense look of frustration bordering on tears - a look of total and utter defeat. Two loud, exasperated sighs filled the room; one from each of us, but for exactly the same reason.

While I looked at the reflection in pity, their eyes began to change; where irritation had flickered moments before, there was now an odd mixture of jealousy at my obvious warmth and slowly percolating frustration at their own current predicament.

As the two emotions swirled angrily in those eyes, threatening to collide and unfurl into a physical demonstration, I rose from the bed quickly, sacrificing my warmth. I knew the alternative – months later I would still be discovering shards of glass from the broken mirror, all perfectly timed to be found with bare feet.

I crossed the room in as few steps as possible, trying not to wince with each biting step towards the antique vanity where the miserable figure sat. As I stood by the hunched form looking into the mirror, sad eyes blinked back at me, causing me to laugh quietly and give a sympathetic smile in return.

"Lucius, honey," I began, bending down so that my face was level with my husband's in the mirror, "Would you like me to finish it for you?" I offered. Lucius's grey eyes moved slowly towards my blue ones in the mirror, his pouting face nodding slowly as he dejectedly admitted defeat. Clearly this called for more adept hands than his.

Placing a small kiss on his forehead, I stood up straight and began running my fingers through his hair, untangling the knots that had formed during his failed attempts.

"All you had to do was ask."

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><p><em>So uh, obviously my concept of time is different to everyone else's. But now that you've read, I give you full permission to kill me for the delay! I'll be accepting murder suggestions in review form, but please, let me know what you thought of this chapter as well. It will make my death justified ^_^<em>

_Fair thee well!_


	4. A Very Near Sorting

_Disclaimer: Yep, it's all legitimately, unquestionably miiiiiiiine!_

_Thank you to ABitofBlack for editing. Everyone needs their exit buddy!_

_Kiitos for the reviews, alerts, favourites and chocolate! Oh…wait, I didn't get the last one. _

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><p><strong>A Very Near Sorting<strong>

_1st September, 1966_

"Black, Narcissa!"

Narcissa's stomach gave a nervous jolt as her name echoed off the stone walls of the Great Hall. Her heart beating fast, she made her way through the group of students surrounding her; many of them staring hard at the floor beneath them, terrified they were next.

Taking a deep breath, she sat down on the four-legged-stool, her hands folded, knees together, ankles crossed; the way her mother had taught her – "_The way proper ladies do."_

Before the aging hat sank down onto her head, waiting to determine her fate, she stole a quick glance to the far right – _Slytherin_. Fifth year Bellatrix nodding at her, an expectant grin playing across her lips; 13-year-old Andromeda giving a quick wave before pointing at a saved seat next to her; Evan Rosier, her cousin, talking quietly to a dark-haired boy. And that arrogant Malfoy boy, who was trying his very best to look bored out of his mind.

The people she knew, and more importantly, the people who knew _her_. She would be sitting amongst them in no time.

As the hat drooped farther down, Narcissa closed her eyes and waited.

"What have we here," a voice began, next to her ear. "Another Black." Narcissa's eyes flew open, looking around the inside of the hat. "Hmm, you're plenty determined, I see. And you've a clever mind. Yes, yes. There's no doubt that you would do well in Slytherin-" the small voice paused and Narcissa felt herself smirk. She was most definitely not going to be a hatstall.

"But, there's a surprising amount of nerve here, too.. " the hat trailed off.

Nerve? No. Clearly, this hat was just trying to fool her, trying to determine if she was truly deserving to wear the green and silver tie. After all, how many times over the years had Bellatrix told her to toughen up?

_Nonsense_, she found herself responding to the hat, suddenly scared. She had not anticipated this – she had not expected to be anything other than a Slytherin, as generations before her had been.

She was _not_ some lowly, reckless Gryffindor, hell-bent on breaking all the rules to become a hero. She did not strive to please everybody, as they did. They were nothing more than lapdogs: eager to please everybody for an ounce of praise.

Narcissa swallowed hard, trying to loosen the lump that had formed in her throat.

_And besides, my family would hate me. _That last thought entered Narcissa's mind before she could stop it. She heard the hat chuckle to itself.

"Ahh, just like you sister, aren't we? Indeed, you do seem to know what you want…" And Narcissa got the distinct feeling that, had this hat been a person, it would currently be tapping a finger on its chin while in deep thought.

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat announced, and Narcissa let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding. As the Slytherin table erupted in cheers and Bellatrix let out a loud woop-ing sound that their mother would not have approved of, Narcissa hopped off the stool, waiting as McGonagall lifted the hat off her head. Her legs felt abnormally shaky as she made her way to the Slytherin table, sitting down next to her sisters.

As Bella ruffled her hair with a "_Finally_!" and Andromeda patted her on the back proudly, Narcissa gave them a small smile and turned back to the sorting.

She did not like one bit the feeling that had settled in her stomach.

That had been _far_ too close.

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><p><em>Hooray, it was a quicker update! <em>

_I can't even say for sure where this chapter came from, it just sort of smacked me in the face – though Narcissa is in my mind undoubtedly Slytherin, there have also been moments in the books where she proved she could have well fitted into Gryffindor. _

_But maybe I'm completely mad._

_Peace, all =)_


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